The Formula
by plumtuckered
Summary: The formula given them by B'Rat Ud lands Archer and Trip in the hands of the Tozrans. COMPLETE (Epilogue added 01-02-04)
1. Default Chapter

A/N: This is yet another story inspired by the events in "Rajiin". There are a few references to "Similitude". Warning - there are hints of T/T'P throughout.  
  
Reviews are welcomed and most appreciated!  
  
DISCLAIMER: As always, I don't own the characters of Star Trek: Enterprise.  
  
  
  
THE FORMULA  
  
By plumtuckered  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
  
  
"Archer to Commander Tucker."  
  
Enterprise's Chief Engineer set the picture of his sister down and hit his desk comm. "Tucker here."  
  
"Trip, join me for a late dinner?"  
  
"I'm not really hungry, Cap'n. Can I take a rain check?"  
  
"You feeling okay?"  
  
Trip smiled and rolled his eyes at the note of concern in his old friend's voice. "I'm fine, Cap'n, just not hungry. I think I'll hit the gym then try to get some sleep."  
  
"You sure? Chef saved some prime rib."  
  
"Yes, sir. Thanks, though. Tucker out." Trip pressed the button to end the call then looked at Elizabeth's picture again. "I miss you, sis," he whispered as he ran his index finger down the photo, carefully tracing the curve of the smiling face. "Happy Birthday."  
  
After changing into a pair of workout pants and t-shirt, Trip made his way to the gym. He'd only been running on the treadmill a few minutes when the door slid open to reveal Archer.  
  
"I thought you were at dinner," commented Trip as he ramped up the speed.  
  
Archer wandered over and stood next to the engineer. "I was until Chef told me he hadn't seen you all day."  
  
Trip cringed.  
  
"What's going on, Trip?"  
  
"There's nothing going on, sir," Trip replied curtly. He increased his speed a little more.  
  
"Did Phlox okay this?"  
  
"Okay what?"  
  
Archer reached up and hit a button, slowing the treadmill. "This kind of physical exertion. It's only been a couple weeks since he released you."  
  
Trip scowled. "He released me to full duty, sir, said I was free to resume normal activities."  
  
"I doubt he meant training for a marathon, Trip," scoffed Archer.  
  
Trip stopped the treadmill and leaned forward on the control panel. "Are you ever going to stop?" he asked mildly, eyeing his friend.  
  
Archer looked confused. "Stop what?"  
  
"Treating me like that naïve kid from ten years ago."  
  
"I don't treat you---," began Archer indignantly then he stopped. After a moment, he chuckled and shook his head. "Probably not, Trip."  
  
"Good," replied Trip with a smile. "Just checking." He stepped down from the treadmill, picked up his towel and wiped his face.  
  
"Now that we've cleared that up, mind telling me what's bothering you?"  
  
Trip sat down on the edge of the running machine and stretched his legs out. "Today was Elizabeth's thirty-first birthday," he said softly.  
  
Archer sat down next to him. "I'm sorry."  
  
Trip fixed his eyes on his shoes and willed himself to remain in control. "She always said she wanted to be married by thirty-one, start a family by thirty-five---," Trip's voice failed him and he felt Archer's hand on his shoulder. He expelled a long calming breath. "They took that all away from her, Cap'n."  
  
"I know," replied Archer simply but he squeezed Trip's shoulder in comfort.  
  
Trip nodded then stood up. "Thanks." He started for the door then stopped. "He's gone, you know."  
  
"Who?"  
  
The commander turned his head to look at his friend. "That naïve kid."  
  
Archer swallowed hard and nodded. "I know he is, Trip," he replied softly.  
  
Trip held his friend's eyes for a long moment then turned and left the gym.  
  
  
  
Jon watched the engineer leave. The naïve kid was indeed gone and just for a moment Jon let himself mourn his passing. He wondered if any of the crew would ever get the pieces of themselves back that they'd lost to the Xindi. He wondered, too, how much more they were still going to lose.  
  
He shook his head, knowing he didn't want to go there. Jon knew why Trip had refused to grieve for his sister for it was why the captain refused to deal with his own demons. There'd be time for that later, after they completed their mission. Only then, Jon knew, would Trip allow himself to mourn and only then would Jon look at himself in the mirror.  
  
"Bridge to Captain Archer."  
  
Jon sighed and stood, moving quickly to the comm. "Go ahead."  
  
"Sir, we're being hailed by a Tozran transport vessel. They say their life support is failing," reported Ensign Hoshi Sato.  
  
"I'll be right there. Archer out."  
  
Jon entered the bridge and moved to his chair. He nodded at Hoshi and within seconds, a face very similar to the chemist, B'Rat Ud, appeared before him. "I'm Captain Jonathan Archer----," he began.  
  
"There is no time for pleasantries, Captain. Our life support systems are failing and we need your help."  
  
Jon glanced at T'Pol who nodded. "I am picking up ship-wide power fluctuations," she replied.  
  
"There are at least forty bio-signs, sir," said Hoshi.  
  
"We have families on board. Please, you must help us!"  
  
"I'm reading only minimal weapons, Captain," reported Lieutenant Malcolm Reed.  
  
The opening of the turbolift drew Jon's attention and he turned to see Trip step onto the bridge, his hair damp from a very quick shower. "What's going on?" he asked.  
  
"You up for some repair work, Commander?"  
  
  
  
Trip hustled down the corridor to his quarters. He hit his entry pad then moved quickly to his desk, grabbing the small silver box from the shelf above it. He set the box down and opened it, taking a count of the tools within then shut the case.  
  
As he turned, he nearly ran into T'Pol. "Sub-commander? What are you doing here?" he asked as he moved passed her into the corridor.  
  
"You need to be cautious, Commander," T'Pol replied as she kept pace with Trip.  
  
Trip looked down at her. "You don't trust these people?"  
  
"No, I do not."  
  
"Why not? They're the same species as that chemist, the one who gave us the formula for Trellium-D. He seemed harmless enough."  
  
T'Pol grabbed Trip's arm staying him. She stepped close. "You need to stay alert, Mr. Tucker."  
  
"Have you told the captain about your concerns?"  
  
T'Pol nodded. "Captain Archer hears me but he does not always listen," she replied.  
  
Trip placed a hand on T'Pol's shoulder. "He's under a lot of pressure right now. You can't take it personally." He dropped his hand then started up the corridor again. "Now why exactly do you not trust these--- these Tozrans?"  
  
"I can not say."  
  
Trip looked down at her. "What? What do you mean?"  
  
"It is essentially a---a feeling I have, Commander."  
  
Trip smiled. "Your gut instinct?"  
  
T'Pol nodded somewhat reluctantly. "I suppose that is an apt description."  
  
Trip opened the turbolift then stepped aside to allow T'Pol to enter first. As they stood side by side, Trip fought the urge to tease her. One look in her dark eyes told him she was very serious about her uneasy feelings and that was enough for Trip to take them seriously as well.  
  
"I will not be able to accompany you because of the Trellium-D lining their hull however Lieutenant Reed was able to convince Captain Archer to take security. I believe Corporal Woods will be joining you."  
  
Trip nodded as the door slid open. T'Pol exited first then they both made their way to the launch bay.  
  
"I'll stay alert, T'Pol," the engineer said as they stopped outside the doors.  
  
"I would feel more confident if you'd eaten today, Mr. Tucker," replied the Vulcan. "And if you were properly rested."  
  
Trip furrowed his brow. "You checking up on me?"  
  
T'Pol looked away briefly then met Trip's eyes. "I was merely performing my duty as first officer," she began.  
  
Trip snorted softly. "So you're aware of all the crew's eating habits?" he prodded teasingly.  
  
T'Pol held his eyes defiantly then looked away. "No, I am not," she replied.  
  
Trip chuckled lightly and patted her arm. "Nice to know you care, T'Pol." He hit the button to open the doors. "Real nice, in fact," he added softly. He entered the bay then turned when T'Pol didn't follow him. "You coming?"  
  
"Since Shuttlepod Two is still treated with---."  
  
Trip shook his head. "I've covered it with a bio-hazard tarp. You should be okay as long as you don't climb inside."  
  
T'Pol nodded her thanks then entered the bay. They walked over to Shuttlepod One where both Archer and Woods were waiting.  
  
"You got everything, Trip?" asked Archer.  
  
"I think so, sir."  
  
Archer looked at T'Pol. "You have the bridge. We'll stay in contact, keep you up to date on our status."  
  
"Understood."  
  
  
  
Travis Mayweather watched as the shuttlepod easily docked with the Tozran transport vessel. He wondered briefly which officer had made the flawless connection as both Captain Archer and Commander Tucker were very capable pilots. Travis placed his money on Archer since the captain, nine times out of ten, insisted on taking the pilot's chair. He'd have to be sure to ask the commander when both men were back on board.  
  
A flashing light drew his attention and Travis scowled. "That can't be right," he muttered.  
  
"Ensign?" prompted the sub-commander. She appeared at his shoulder.  
  
"They're releasing the docking clamp," reported Travis.  
  
"Are you certain?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Lieutenant, where are our people?"  
  
"They're on the transport, Sub-commander," replied Reed. "Wait a minute--- ." He paused.  
  
"Lieutenant!" pressed T'Pol.  
  
Travis picked up the urgency in the Vulcan's voice at the same time he felt fear grip him.  
  
"I had all three bio-signs now I'm only picking up two."  
  
"They're not answering my hails, Sub-commander," reported Hoshi.  
  
Travis looked at the view screen again only to see the 'pod drifting away from the transport. He looked down at his display. "Sub-commander, they're releasing the passenger section!"  
  
T'Pol leaned over, one hand on the edge of his console, one on the back of his chair. He sensed the tension in her immediately.  
  
"They're powering up their engines!" shouted Reed.  
  
"Target them, Lieutenant."  
  
Travis felt the slight jolt of weapons being fired but watched in dismay as the torpedoes impacted with nothing.  
  
"They've raised shields! Our weapons are having no effect!" reported Reed.  
  
"Ensign, prepare to follow them," ordered T'Pol and Travis nodded.  
  
"Sub-commander," reported Hoshi. "There are thirty bio-signs in the passenger section. And their life support is failing."  
  
Travis looked up at T'Pol who was staring at the images on the screen. "What are your orders, ma'am?" he asked.  
  
  
  
Continued 


	2. Chapter Two

  
  
Chapter Two  
  
  
  
Jon awoke with a start then sat up in confusion. He looked around at the dimly lit room, feeling strangely disoriented. He was alone and for some reason, he knew he shouldn't be. The captain dropped his head into his hands, his mind fighting to remember. He'd been with Trip and Corporal Woods when they'd boarded the Tozran transport vessel. The Tozrans had seemed grateful for their arrival, greeting them with hearty handshakes. Then Jon remembered very vividly the horror of watching the young MACO falling to the floor, blood gushing from a chest wound, a Tozran standing over him holding a blade. After that sight, there was nothing.  
  
Slowly Jon stood up as realization hit him like a fist to the gut. Trip. He moved to the door. There was no handle or keypad on his side so he pounded on the metal with his fists. He stopped and listened but the only sound that reached his ears was the hammering of his heart.  
  
"Hey!" the captain yelled but again, there was no response. "Trip! Can you hear me?"  
  
Silence.  
  
Jon turned and began to pace, fear gripping his belly. As he moved, he looked around. There was absolutely nothing in the room and the only light came from a small inset bulb in the middle of the ceiling. He looked up at it, noting absently that the light dimmed and brightened at regular intervals.  
  
A sound at the door made him turn quickly and Jon stepped forward as it slid open.  
  
"Stand back!"  
  
A Tozran male entered carrying a phase pistol. Two others followed him dragging Trip between them. They dropped the engineer in a heap then left the room without a word.  
  
Jon knelt at Trip's side, his finger instantly searching for a pulse in one slack wrist. He closed his eyes and exhaled in relief when he felt movement under his fingertip. Gently, he turned his friend over so that he was lying on his back. In the dim light, he could clearly see the commander had been beaten. The captain carefully lifted Trip and held him against his chest, keeping him off the cold, hard floor.  
  
"I don't remember it," Trip mumbled. "Please stop." He started to struggle.  
  
"Hey, hey," soothed Jon. Trip's head shifted against his chest. "You're okay, Trip."  
  
"Cap'n?"  
  
"Yeah. Just take it easy."  
  
Trip's eyes opened and he looked up at the captain. He grimaced briefly then attempted to sit up.  
  
"Stay still, Trip. You're hurt."  
  
The engineer shook his head. "I'm all right," he managed but he settled back down against Jon without much protest. "Woods?" he asked.  
  
"He's not here. I think he's dead," replied Jon.  
  
Trip closed his eyes and grimaced again.  
  
"Who are these people?" asked Jon.  
  
"They didn't exactly introduce themselves, Cap'n," Trip replied without rancor. "They just asked a lot of questions about B'Rat Ud."  
  
"The chemist?"  
  
Trip nodded and opened his eyes. "Wanted to know how we knew him." The engineer shifted slightly then let out a stifled moan.  
  
"Hey, take it easy," Jon said quietly. He reached a hand down and gently probed Trip's ribs. "Feel like anything's broken?" he asked.  
  
The engineer gritted his teeth but shook his head. "They also asked about the formula he gave us," he gasped. "Wanted me to give it to them. I don't think it's for Trellium-D, sir."  
  
Jon remained silent.  
  
"I didn't tell them anything, Cap'n."  
  
The captain looked down at the younger man. "I know that, Trip," he replied.  
  
Trip looked a bit puzzled.  
  
"Don't you think after ten years I'd know how stubborn you can be?" Jon smiled.  
  
Trip pursed his lips. "I'm not that stubborn," he muttered.  
  
Before Jon could respond, the door opened again. The same Tozran who entered before walked in.  
  
He motioned with his pistol. "Get on your feet!"  
  
"Looks like it's my turn," Jon whispered. He carefully lowered Trip to the floor then stood.  
  
The Tozran pointed at Trip. "You, too!"  
  
"No," the captain said sharply.  
  
The man pistol-whipped Jon across the face, sending the captain to his hands and knees.  
  
"Hey!" shouted Trip.  
  
Jon shook his head to clear the fog. He turned to see Trip standing, swaying back and forth on his feet. The captain stood and moved to his friend's side to help him, ignoring the throbbing in his head.  
  
They were taken down a short corridor and into another room where an older female Tozran awaited them. The woman was short but Jon could see by her bearing that she was the one giving the orders.  
  
"You're wasting your time," said Trip angrily.  
  
"I don't think so, young one," replied the woman. She nodded her head at two other men who stepped forward and grabbed Jon's arms. He struggled but the Tozrans held tight, their strength surprising given their compact stature.  
  
Trip dropped to his knees without the captain's support. "Leave him alone!" he demanded betweens gasps. A woman stepped up behind him and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back.  
  
The older Tozran circled Jon, looking over the captain. "So you two are not merely fellow officers, are you? You're friends."  
  
Jon looked beyond the woman to a video display screen embedded in the opposite wall. He recognized the room from which they'd just been taken realizing suddenly that the light had also been a surveillance camera. Jon's eyes moved to Trip who met his gaze steadily.  
  
"So how important is this man to you?" asked the Tozran casting a quick glance at Trip. "He's your captain, yes, but how close a friend is he?" She slammed her fist into Jon's stomach. The captain doubled over but was immediately stood up straight by the two men holding his arms. He was hit again, this time across his right jaw and Jon's vision blurred.  
  
"Stop it!" shouted Trip.  
  
Jon looked at his engineer. The younger man was still on his knees, the female Tozran holding him by the hair. Another male quickly joined her, grabbing the commander's arm and twisting it behind his back. Trip was struggling against their firm hold.  
  
The captain turned his attention to the Tozran who'd hit him. "Who are you people and what do you want from us?" he asked as he spit out a mouthful of blood.  
  
The older woman smiled. "I'm T'Maan Ru, leader of the Tozran Revolutionaries. And what I want from your young friend here is the formula given him by one B'Rat Ud."  
  
"I already told you," Trip insisted. "I don't remember it!"  
  
Jon took a painful breath. "I take it the formula isn't for synthesizing Trellium-D?"  
  
T'Maan laughed. "Is that what he told you? B'Rat always did have a sense of humor!" Her wide face grew serious. "No, Captain. It isn't for synthesizing Trellium-D." T'Maan knelt in front of Trip and studied him. "It's a chemical compound needed for a weapon we've developed." She stood then and faced Jon. "You see, Captain, you and your engineer landed yourselves right in the middle of a rebellion."  
  
Jon looked at Trip then back at T'Maan. "Why don't you just get the formula from B'Rat?"  
  
The Tozran sighed dramatically. "Alas, my dear brother is dead. He couldn't withstand my methods of torture. He never was very strong."  
  
"Your brother?" gasped Trip.  
  
T'Maan turned and knelt before him again. She drew her stubby index finger down Trip's cheek. "Before he died, he did tell me that he gave the formula to you, young one." Her powerful fingers closed around Trip's throat. "Now give it to me!"  
  
"T'Maan," warned the man who held the commander's arm.  
  
The woman released her death grip then backhanded the engineer hard across the face. She stood and turned back to Jon, her eyes burning with anger. She pulled a baton from her belt and flipped a switch imbedded in its side. The tip turned white and Jon instinctively tried to pull away. T'Maan touched the tip to Jon's arm and he couldn't help but cry out at the sudden burst of pain that shot through him.  
  
  
  
"Stop it!" shouted Trip. He pulled against the two Tozran's who held him, all his own injuries long forgotten.  
  
T'Maan smiled down at him then touched the wand to Archer's side. The captain cried out in agony and his legs gave out.  
  
"Stop! Please!"  
  
The woman squatted down beside Trip. "Will you give me the formula?" she asked as she tapped the baton against one palm.  
  
Trip tried to calm his breathing. "You said, you said it was for a weapon. I can't---."  
  
"I am losing patience, young one. Will you give me the formula or not?"  
  
"I can't---," Trip began.  
  
T'Maan stood and placed the tip of the baton against Archer's shoulder. The captain threw his head back and yelled out again.  
  
"Stop!" demanded Trip angrily.  
  
The woman brushed the baton against the captain's arm and he choked back another harsh scream.  
  
"Please, stop. I'll give you the damn formula."  
  
T'Maan stopped and looked down at Trip. "It had better be right, young one, or your friend here will die!"  
  
Before Trip could answer, the ship rocked violently and the lights flickered. A claxon sounded over his head.  
  
"Damn it!" cursed T'Maan. "Take them back to their cell!"  
  
The ship rocked again, throwing everyone to the floor. Sparks cascaded down over them and flames licked the walls.  
  
Trip quickly gathered his senses and grabbed for the baton from T'Maan's hand. Her fingers closed around thin air as Trip pulled it from her grip. In one smooth motion, the engineer braced himself over her, flipped the switch and pressed the tip to T'Maan's neck. She screamed and thrashed violently under him then fell suddenly silent.  
  
The commander rolled to his side then onto his feet. The other four Tozrans were just gathering themselves. Trip yelled and charged the two nearest to him, swinging the heavy baton like a club. He caught the female Tozran across the side of her skull, dropping her instantly. Trip dropped to one knee, pulled the pistol from her holster then rolled, barely avoiding phaser fire. He turned squeezing the trigger at the same time. He hit one Tozran male in the head then turned his aim to the remaining two. He fired, catching one in the chest and the other in the shoulder before the ship rocked again.  
  
Trip was sent sprawling to the floor, the pistol knocked from his grasp. He looked up quickly to see Archer a few meters away. The captain was beginning to stir. No one else was moving.  
  
"Cap'n!" Trip gasped. He crawled to his friend's side, choking on the acrid smoke that was filling the air. "Cap'n, you alright?"  
  
"I, I think so," managed Archer. He sat up with Trip's help then looked around still clearly dazed.  
  
"Come on, sir. We gotta get out of here," urged the engineer. He stood and pulled Archer to his feet.  
  
"Do you know where the docking port is?" coughed Archer.  
  
Trip shook his head. "I was hoping you did."  
  
The captain looked at him with a blank expression.  
  
Trip turned his head. "There's got to be a schematic I can pull up." He moved to a console and hit some buttons.  
  
Finally, he found the information he wanted then turned back to the captain. Archer was kneeling, retrieving a couple phase pistols from the floor. He stood and turned.  
  
"Cap'n!" shouted Trip.  
  
As if he were seeing it played out in slow motion, Trip watched in horror as the Tozran whom he'd hit in the shoulder pushed a blade deep into Archer's side. The captain instantly dropped to his knees, his hands covering the spreading dark patch on his uniform. The Tozran stepped back still gripping the bloody weapon. He looked at Trip and smiled.  
  
Trip lunged letting out a yell of pure fury as he flipped on the baton he still wielded and rammed the end into the Tozran's stomach. The tip pierced flesh and kept going. The man screamed and blood exploded over Trip's hand, splatters of the deep crimson covering his uniform.  
  
The ship rocked again and the lights went out completely. Only a second passed before the emergency power came on. Trip released the baton and watched strangely detached as the Tozran fell to the floor.  
  
Then he was at his friend's side. Archer's eyes were open but Trip could tell his captain wasn't aware of what was happening. The engineer grabbed a pistol, tucked it into his uniform then pulled the captain to his feet. Trip gasped as he took Archer's full weight over his shoulder then quickly moved out into the smoke-filled corridor. He pulled out the pistol and held it tightly before him.  
  
Thankfully, those remaining alive were busy elsewhere so Trip made it to the docking port without incident. One quick look out a small view port told him that the 'pod was no longer docked. The commander cursed harshly then stepped to a console and pulled up another schematic.  
  
"There's an escape pod, Cap'n," Trip said. "Just hang on."  
  
The commander moved down the corridor as quickly as he could. Flames licked at him and he felt a burning sensation on his left calf. Ignoring the searing pain, he kept going until he reached a little door. He shot the keypad with his pistol and the door slid open to reveal the tiny pod. He almost wept with relief as he carefully stepped into the tiny vessel.  
  
Trip lowered Archer to the floor then sat in the pilot's chair. He took a guess and pulled a lever. The instant nauseating feeling of dropping hit him and he knew he'd guessed right. Going on pure instinct, Trip managed to get the little pod's propulsion system activated.  
  
As they pulled away, he caught a glimpse of the Tozran ship hovering to his right. The little ship was burning then in one brilliant burst of light, it ceased to exist. Trip braced himself as the little 'pod was sent tumbling by the shock wave.  
  
  
  
Continued 


	3. Chapter Three

  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
  
"What do you mean, the ship's been destroyed!" demanded Malcolm Reed. He stood from his chair, ignoring the look of warning given him by T'Pol. "Our two officers were on that ship!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. Please accept my condolences."  
  
"Your condolences?" Malcolm stared in disbelief at the face of General B'Ren Taroot. "We saved your bloody prisoners of war and that's---."  
  
"Lieutenant!" interrupted the Vulcan sub-commander firmly.  
  
"We were unable to communicate to our brethren in time to stop the orders," explained the Tozran. "I am sorry, Sub-commander."  
  
"I understand, General," replied T'Pol.  
  
Malcolm looked at her in time to see her jaw muscles twitching. He knew she was seething inside as much as he was but it didn't help. He dropped his head for a moment. If only they'd left those people to die, Trip and the captain would probably still be alive. He bit his lower lip against the sudden rush of emotion. They'd done the right thing, he reminded himself. They'd saved thirty innocent lives.  
  
"At least you were able to retrieve the body of your corporal."  
  
"Yes, General."  
  
Malcolm glanced up again at the face of the Tozran. They'd found Corporal Woods' bloodied corpse in the passenger section, thrown haphazardly just inside the doors. Malcolm knew from the other MACOs that the young corporal had a wife and child back on Earth. He swallowed the bile that rose suddenly in his throat.  
  
"Again, Sub-commander, we are truly sorry for what's occurred here today."  
  
T'Pol nodded once. "Thank you," she replied briskly then she nodded at Hoshi who instantly ended the transmission.  
  
"What now, Sub-commander?" asked Travis.  
  
"We go to the coordinates where the general claims the Karelle was destroyed," T'Pol replied. The Vulcan turned and moved slowly to the captain's chair then sat down. "Then we continue our mission, Ensign. We find and destroy the Xindi weapon."  
  
  
  
Trip tried again and for the third time, the little propulsion unit failed to come to life. "Sonofabitch," hissed the engineer under his breath.  
  
"Trip?"  
  
"Yeah, Cap'n," replied Trip. He turned in his seat and bent over his friend. He'd managed to find medical supplies and a thermal blanket in one small compartment and had wrapped Archer's wound in the confined space. He looked closely at the bandages, noting how the bleeding had slowed but hadn't stopped completely.  
  
Archer squinted up at him. "You're injured."  
  
Trip reached up and wiped at his forehead, surprised to find his fingers bloody. "It's nothing, sir, just a scratch."  
  
"How much longer?" breathed Archer weakly.  
  
"Enterprise'll be here soon. You just hang on."  
  
Archer nodded then fell silent.  
  
Trip looked at the older man for a long moment then he turned and tried the propulsion unit again.  
  
And again it failed to come to life. Trip cursed and slammed his fist into the console. He looked at the little gauge to his left, watching as it flashed red at him in steady intervals.  
  
Their air supply was running low.  
  
"Anything wrong?"  
  
"No, nothing's wrong," Trip lied. He lowered himself to the floor and gently picked up his friend's shoulders. He sat down then let Archer's head rest against his thigh. "You wanna play Geography?" he asked.  
  
The captain smiled. "No," he replied then he coughed, his hand clutching at his side.  
  
"Easy, Cap'n," soothed Trip. "Take it easy."  
  
"I'm alright," gasped Archer.  
  
Trip reached for a gauze bandage from the medical kit and gently swabbed his friend's brow.  
  
"Would you have given it to her?" asked Archer.  
  
"The formula?"  
  
The captain nodded.  
  
Trip shrugged. "Yeah probably, but with a few key omissions," he replied. "I needed to buy us some time. It was either that or give her the secret recipe to my uncle's special whiskey."  
  
Archer smiled then fell silent. "Tell me about Bedford," he said finally.  
  
"What? How the hell did you know about him?" asked Trip incredulously.  
  
Archer looked up at the engineer. "Sim told me. He was only around 8 years old at the time."  
  
"What else did he tell you?"  
  
"Not a lot. We actually didn't talk that much," replied Archer.  
  
Trip swallowed hard. He hadn't thought of his dog in years.  
  
"Hey," Archer said as he nudged Trip's leg with his hand. "So what kind of dog was he?"  
  
"A Golden Retriever. When I was little, I could ride him like a horse." Trip leaned back against the wall and smiled warmly at the memories. "There was this lake at my grandparents' house. Grandma used to always tell me never to go down to it without a grown-up." Trip shifted slightly. "Did I listen? I wasn't even four yet 'cause Lizzie was still a baby. I wandered down to the lake with Bedford and we both decided to take a swim."  
  
The engineer shivered. "I remember wading in then nothing! The bottom just disappeared from under my feet. I thought I was a goner for sure! Then Bedford was there. I grabbed hold of his collar and he swam us to shore. Saved my life, that old dog." He chuckled softly. "Needless to say I got a pretty good swat on my backside from my grandma when she saw us both soaked to the skin."  
  
"Sounds like Bedford was pretty special."  
  
Trip nodded. "He used to go everywhere with Lizzie and me. Never let us out of his sight." He shook his head. "We had a lot of fun together, just the three of us."  
  
"You and Lizzie spent a lot of time together?"  
  
"Yeah. My folks worked a lot and my brother was off busy with sports and girls. He was a lot older than Liz and me. And we couldn't afford a 'sitter so it was my job to keep an eye on her. She was a good kid though so I didn't really mind." He sighed sadly. "I still can't believe she's gone."  
  
They fell silent and Trip wiped the beads of perspiration from Archer's brow.  
  
"Trip?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Promise me you won't let this mission fail. Promise me that," Archer said. He reached up and grabbed the commander's wrist staying it. "Swear to me, Trip."  
  
"WE won't let the mission fail, Cap'n, you're going to be fine."  
  
Archer looked at Trip, his fingers still closed tightly around the engineer's wrist. "Promise me, Commander," he said sharply.  
  
"Oh no you don't! You are not going to give up on me, Cap'n!" ordered Trip. "We've been through too much for it to end like this, you understand? This crew needs you to lead them."  
  
"Trip---."  
  
Trip looked squarely at his commanding officer daring him to argue with him any further.  
  
Archer hesitated then he pursed his lips and nodded slowly. His eyes slid shut as he released Trip's wrist.  
  
"Good. Now shut up and lie still. T'Pol will be here any moment."  
  
Archer coughed. "That sounds a lot like insubordination to me, Commander," he managed.  
  
Trip snorted. "Well then when Enterprise gets here, you feel free to lock me in the brig, sir."  
  
"You'd probably find some way to get into trouble even in the brig," the captain mumbled.  
  
"Very funny. And this from the Starfleet captain who can't seem to set foot off his own ship without something happening to him."  
  
Archer chuckled then coughed harshly.  
  
"Hey, take it easy."  
  
The captain waved his hand. "I'm alright, just finding it hard to catch my breath."  
  
Trip glanced at the flashing red light. "Maybe you should try to rest, Cap'n. I'll wake you when T'Pol gets here."  
  
Archer nodded and fell silent. After a few moments, his breathing evened out and Trip knew he'd fallen asleep.  
  
The engineer stared out the little view port. He'd realized long ago what an important role Archer's friendship had in his life and that he'd gladly lay down his life for the man at any time. What surprised him, though, was that the captain seemed to feel the same way.  
  
He smiled warmly. Over all those years, neither of them had ever actually spoken of their powerful bond. Even after Sim, neither of them spoke of it. They'd just always known it was there and that it would always be there no matter what happened. Archer was the one true constant in Trip's life, his touchstone, his friend, even his brother. And, the commander reminded himself with sudden affection, even his self-appointed protector.  
  
Trip let his head fall back. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, let himself remember all the times they'd shared, both good and bad.  
  
"I'm sorry, Cap'n," he whispered finally. "You've always protected me and the one time I could protect you, I failed." Trip swallowed the sudden swell of emotion. "I'm sorry, sir."  
  
  
  
Dr. Phlox dimmed the lights in sickbay then moved to his chair and sat down. The lights just seemed too bright to him suddenly.  
  
The Denobulan leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. They were dead, both the captain and Commander Tucker. He shook his head. Although he'd had disagreements with Archer, Phlox still had the utmost respect for and loyalty to the man. In his eyes, Archer was nothing short of a memorable human being.  
  
Phlox sat back and looked up at the ceiling. As much as he felt for the captain, though, it was Commander Tucker who had forever found a place in his heart. The doctor couldn't help but feel a deep affection for the young engineer. In his mind's eye, Phlox could still clearly see the baby he'd held and rocked in his arms. He had tried to remain distant and clinical toward Sim, but he had failed miserably.  
  
He sat forward again, covering his face with his hands. Even though Sim was a distinct individual, Phlox couldn't help but feel he'd had a glimpse of the boy Trip had once been. Now they were both gone and his captain as well, lost to him because of the Expanse.  
  
"T'Pol to sickbay."  
  
Phlox sighed then forced himself to his feet. He moved to the nearest comm. "Go ahead, Sub-commander."  
  
"Doctor, meet me in launch bay one. We're bringing an escape pod on board."  
  
"An escape pod?"  
  
"There isn't time to explain, Doctor."  
  
"Alright, alright, T'Pol, I'm on my way." Phlox ended the call. He quickly grabbed his medical case from the counter then hurried out of the darkened sickbay.  
  
  
  
Continued 


	4. Chapter Four

  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
  
T'Pol stood silently by the bedside of her commanding officer. She cast a furtive glance behind her at the commander who sat in a chair sound asleep. Her careful gaze noted the livid bruises on his face, his disheveled hair, and the blood spatters on his uniform. T'Pol was not surprised when the engineer had quite adamantly refused to leave until he was certain the captain would recover.  
  
A low moan drew T'Pol's attention back to Archer. "Welcome back, Captain," she greeted evenly.  
  
Archer opened his eyes then blinked. "Enterprise?"  
  
"Yes, Captain," replied Dr. Phlox. He stood across from T'Pol his eyes focused on the monitors over Archer's bed.  
  
"Then you found us."  
  
T'Pol lifted a brow. "That is an obvious conclusion," she stated.  
  
"In the nick of time, I believe is how you would put it, Captain," said Phlox. "As it was, I needed to resuscitate both you and Commander Tucker."  
  
"Trip? Is he okay?"  
  
Phlox motioned with his hand. "See for yourself."  
  
Archer turned his head and T'Pol stepped aside slightly so that the captain could see the commander sleeping soundly in the chair, his chin resting on his chest.  
  
"How long has he been there?" asked Archer with an affectionate smile.  
  
"Since I revived him twelve hours ago," replied Phlox. "He hasn't been asleep very long. I have to marvel at his stubbornness, Captain. He refused to leave your side until he knew you were out of danger."  
  
Archer chuckled then grabbed at his side.  
  
"It was only a flesh wound but you lost a great deal of blood," reported Phlox clinically. "You'll need a few days bed rest."  
  
The captain nodded then took a breath. He looked at T'Pol. "What happened?"  
  
"With the help of the Tozran militia, we were able to locate the pod in which you and Commander Tucker escaped," said T'Pol as she clasped her hands behind her back. "We thought initially that you both perished when the Karelle was destroyed. However, after reviewing their scans, the Tozrans discovered that one pod had been launched. General Taroot immediately hailed us with the news that the bio-signs were human and then he assisted us in finding you."  
  
"I'm not sure I completely follow but I'm sure you'll fill in the blanks later," replied Archer.  
  
"Of course, Captain."  
  
Archer looked over at the commander again with a smile. "Would you wake him up and help him to his quarters? He can't be comfortable sitting like that."  
  
T'Pol reached down and placed her hand on Tucker's shoulder. "Commander?"  
  
The engineer started and sat up. "Wha---?"  
  
"Captain Archer is awake, Mr. Tucker," said T'Pol gently.  
  
Tucker stood, a smile spreading quickly across his bruised face. "You're okay," he said then his hand went to his side and he grimaced.  
  
"Yes he is, Commander," announced Phlox. "Now I want you to go to your quarters and I don't want to hear about you doing anything but resting for the next twenty-four hours, do I make myself clear?"  
  
"But can't I just----," Tucker began.  
  
"No."  
  
"Come on, Doc," the commander persisted.  
  
Phlox picked up a hypospray then walked around to the engineer's side. He placed the device against Tucker's neck and released the contents. "Sub- commander, would you please accompany Commander Tucker to his quarters?"  
  
T'Pol nodded and took Tucker's elbow moving him toward the sickbay doors.  
  
"I guess I'll see you later, Cap'n," Tucker said over his shoulder.  
  
"Hey, Trip?"  
  
T'Pol stopped so that the engineer could turn around.  
  
"You didn't fail me, Trip," Archer said, his voice catching. "And you never have. You got that?"  
  
Tucker nodded slowly. "Yes, sir," he replied softly.  
  
"Good. Now get out of here."  
  
T'Pol drew the engineer around and led him out the doors into the corridor. He remained uncharacteristically silent for their entire journey to his quarters and T'Pol wondered briefly if she should return him to see Dr. Phlox.  
  
"Are you alright, Commander?" she asked finally as they stood outside Tucker's door.  
  
Tucker nodded then wavered slightly. "Your gut instinct was right, T'Pol," he said, his voice slurred by fatigue.  
  
T'Pol wrapped an arm around Tucker's waist then keyed in her override code. The door slid open and she guided the commander into his quarters and sat him on his bunk.  
  
"Yep," Tucker mumbled. "Gotta trust your gut, T'Pol. Cause usually its right." Then he laughed softly. "Whatever the Doc gave me is sure kickin' in."  
  
"We should remove your uniform, Commander," T'Pol said. She reached for his zipper but he put his hand over hers, staying it. She held his eyes for a long moment then he dropped his hand to his lap. T'Pol pulled the zipper down and Tucker started slipping his arms out. "Commander, we need to first---," she began but it was too late. The commander flailed both arms around as he tried to rid himself of his uniform. T'Pol stood up and observed the sight in bemused silence.  
  
Finally, Tucker stilled, both sleeves turned inside out but still clasped firmly around his wrists. T'Pol watched as his eyes slid closed. He sat upright for only a few more seconds then he fell onto his side, his cheek landing on his pillow, quite obviously sound asleep.  
  
T'Pol regarded him for a long moment. He was without a doubt the most exasperating human she'd ever met but somehow, over the three years they'd served together and more so over the last few months in the Expanse, she'd come to cherish his company. T'Pol lifted a brow at that admission then she knelt beside the sleeping commander and finished removing his uniform.  
  
After several moments, T'Pol finally finished her task and she carefully settled the engineer on his back. She pulled the blanket up over him, regarded him once more, then quietly walked to the door, dimmed the lights and left his quarters.  
  
  
  
Hoshi Sato glanced up from her data padd as the mess hall door opened. "Captain," she said as she stood. She moved quickly to Archer's side. "I didn't know the doctor had released you, sir."  
  
Archer smiled. "This afternoon," he replied.  
  
Hoshi took his elbow to steady him. "It's late, sir. Shouldn't you be in bed?"  
  
"I had this craving for vanilla ice cream," replied the captain. "With chocolate syrup."  
  
The ensign laughed. "Why don't you have a seat and I'll get it for you." She moved to the dispenser. "Do you want a small serving or a large one?"  
  
"A large one," directed Archer. "And don't be stingy on the syrup."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
Hoshi finished preparing the dessert then set it down on the table in front of her captain. She took the seat opposite him and watched in delight as he dug in.  
  
"Mmmmm."  
  
"Good?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," replied Archer with a smile. "What've you got there?" he asked with a nod toward the padd lying before her.  
  
"Just catching up on some reading," said Hoshi. She picked up the little device and hurriedly switched it off.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
Hoshi felt her cheeks flush. "A romance novel, sir," she said uncomfortably.  
  
Archer smiled then turned his attention back to his ice cream.  
  
"I bet Porthos is happy to have you back."  
  
The captain nodded then swallowed a big bite. "Thanks for watching him for me."  
  
"Oh it was my pleasure, sir. He's good company."  
  
Archer smiled warmly. "That he is."  
  
"Have you read the final report on the Tozrans?"  
  
"This morning."  
  
"Do you believe General Taroot?"  
  
"I guess I have to," replied Archer. He stirred the ice cream around with his spoon. "Everything Trip and I went through and the formula really was for Trellium-D."  
  
Hoshi nodded then she looked at the door as T'Pol and the commander entered, deep in the middle of a conversation.  
  
"No," said Trip. "She let him go because she DID love him."  
  
"But that is not logical," replied T'Pol. She placed a mug under the dispenser. "Mint tea, hot."  
  
Trip waited patiently at the sub-commander's elbow. "No one said love was logical, T'Pol," he replied with his most disarming grin.  
  
Hoshi tried to hide her smile. The two clearly had no idea anyone else was around. She glanced at Archer who was watching the couple as well, his eyebrows lifted in a mixture of surprise and amusement.  
  
"But if she did indeed---love him, why didn't she simply convey that to him?"  
  
"Coff---," began Trip but he stopped when T'Pol placed her hand on his forearm. "Oh, right. You don't want me having caffeine this late." He smiled at her almost shyly. "Milk, warm. Anyway, she didn't tell him because she thought he'd be happier without her."  
  
T'Pol seemed to ponder that response. She sipped her tea. "But he clearly had affection for her as well."  
  
Trip nodded and pulled his mug from the dispenser.  
  
"Vulcan courtships are far less complicated," said T'Pol.  
  
Side by side, the two moved back to the door still oblivious to Hoshi and Archer's presence.  
  
Trip opened the door. "And probably far less, um, entertaining. No fire, no passion---."  
  
"Vulcans feel passion, Mr. Tucker," replied T'Pol. "We just---."  
  
The door closed behind them leaving Hoshi and the captain in silence.  
  
"Huh," grunted Archer. "I didn't know tonight's movie was a romance."  
  
"It wasn't," replied Hoshi still trying to hide her amusement.  
  
Archer stirred his ice cream. "Then what was that all about?"  
  
Hoshi shrugged. "Wouldn't know, sir."  
  
"Huh."  
  
"Well, I think I'll turn in. Will you be okay here alone, Captain?"  
  
Archer nodded and took a bite. "Yeah, I'll be fine. See you in the morning."  
  
"Good night, sir."  
  
"Night."  
  
Hoshi stood and walked to the door. She cast a glance back at Archer as the door slid open then she stepped into the corridor. She heard one final bewildered grunt from her commanding officer before the door closed behind her.  
  
  
  
THE END 


	5. Epilogue

  
  
Epilogue  
  
  
  
Trip sat up with a jolt. He looked around his quarters then he expelled a long breath of relief. He was in his quarters in his bunk and there was no one else there.  
  
The engineer threw back his blanket and sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bunk. He stood and walked on trembling legs to his bathroom. Leaning over the basin, Trip turned on the cold water and filled his hands then doused his face. He turned the water off and braced himself on the edge of the little sink. Looking up, Trip stared at his reflection in the mirror. In all of his dreams of childhood, he had never ever imagined that he would be a killer. Space exploration was supposed to be just that - exploration.  
  
Trip met his own eyes and suddenly saw the eyes of the Tozran he'd killed. He looked at his hand still damp from the water and saw the man's blood covering it. The engineer's eyes went back to his reflection. What had he become? Was he willing to kill again?  
  
Trip squeezed his eyes closed. "Yes," he replied. He knew in his heart he would kill again if he had to, if it were necessary to save the people he loved and his world he would do anything. He sighed and opened his eyes again. Charles Tucker III was indeed an explorer but he was also a killer and he'd have to live with that knowledge for the rest of his life.  
  
The commander turned and pulled a towel off the shelf then dried his face. He left the bathroom and began to dress knowing that after a brief respite, sleep was again his enemy.  
  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
